Chapter 89

Chapter 89

The cacophony of unfamiliar sounds pushed the aftermath of the explosion to its peak. Xi Siyan couldn't hear what those around him were saying; he even began to suspect that his nerves might be damaged. It wasn't until he felt someone beneath him struggling to stand and the hand that came to support him grew stronger.

Xi Siyan shook his head forcefully, gripped Chen Mo's wrist tightly, squeezed it, and spoke in a hoarse voice, "I'm fine, don't worry."

Even his own words sounded muted.

Fortunately, Chen Mo seemed to have heard him, as the intense anxiety in his eyes slightly eased.

Soon, people gathered from all directions.

Their mouths moved, speaking incessantly.

"Sir, how are you?"

"Are you okay?"

"The hospital is sending help right away!"

Xi Siyan's head throbbed painfully, and he immediately checked Chen Mo for injuries. The overwhelming fragments of information prevented him from having the energy to respond to others.

He simply held Chen Mo's hand tightly without letting go.

Before everything was sorted out, he knew one crucial point that overlapped with his recurring dreams: Chen Mo had died.

At the bottom of the abandoned building, on the spot.

Chen Mo didn't know what kind of storm Xi Siyan was experiencing inside. He only knew that Xi Siyan looked terrible at the moment.

His arms and body were covered in black soot. His palms and elbows, which had protected him, were scraped raw on the ground, bleeding and mixed with sand and gravel. His hearing was completely gone due to the impact, and the worst injury was on his back, burned by the scorching heat, revealing large patches of burnt skin under his charred clothes, a shocking sight.

Fortunately, the firefighters had opened an emergency passage and quickly arrived to extinguish the fire.

Xi Siyan refused emergency medical treatment and quietly disappeared from the chaotic scene with Chen Mo.

The severe chain collision accident on Sui City's Jinlu Bridge soon made local news.

Some of the gruesome images required blurring before they could be published.

Especially the car that exploded into flames, making viewers feel suffocated.

"Thankfully everyone was rescued, that was close."

"The bystanders were so brave, never giving up until the last moment. I can't imagine what would have happened if no one had rushed forward."

"It's been several hours now. Is there any follow-up from the scene? I saw that the people closest to the explosion must have been injured."

The video footage of the explosion ended with a shot of Xi Siyan and Chen Mo.

However, because of the distance and the late hour, it was unclear.

Only the image of them protecting each other as they ran out of the explosion's firelight was captured and quickly went viral.

The hashtags were all about ordinary heroes.

Journalists usually chase such stories, asking about the situation or discussing heroic acts.

But no news came from the outside world.

Instead, the cause and casualties of the chain collision were quickly investigated and clearly reported, without the usual confusion and ambiguity.

It was handled cleanly and swiftly.

Without any other focus, the image from the scene continued to be mentioned even after nightfall.

"A few people nearby have given interviews, but why not these two? Did the reporters not find them?"

"To be honest, they look familiar."

"Maybe they didn't want to be exposed. I was there, and they didn't even get into an ambulance; they were taken away directly. Their attire suggested they weren't ordinary people."

"They didn't get into an ambulance? I saw their injuries were quite severe. I hope they're okay."

At the old Xi family residence.

The old residence was a modern Chinese villa, with intricately designed courtyards.

Xi Siyan's room was on the second floor of the back courtyard.

This was Chen Mo's first visit.

Standing outside with him were many members of the Xi family. Apart from the elders seated—like the patriarch, his parents, and uncles—there were also many young people Chen Mo had never met before. Chen Mo also saw Xi Siyan's second uncle, Xi Jianxing. Compared to five years ago, he looked thinner and more mature, without the carefree demeanor of a spoiled brat, standing next to Han Qian.

Han Qian had somehow slipped over.

When he nudged Chen Mo's elbow, he whispered, "You two really know how to make an entrance. This is the first time I've seen the Xis gather like this in years."

Chen Mo glanced at him but said nothing.

"The Xi family has top-notch medical resources, so don't worry," Han Qian reassured him, looking at the closed door. "Injuries like his don't require such a fuss, but who can blame them when he's the heir to the Xi family?"

Chen Mo leaned against a pillar in the corridor, aware of the gazes from all directions.

Even some of the younger generation couldn't help whispering.

"Is that Brother Siyan's boyfriend?"

"Right? Didn't you see how Brother Yan held onto him the whole time? They only separated after he was given anesthesia."

"It's been five years since they broke up, and yet here they are again."

"After all, they started dating in high school. And didn’t you see his leg wound just now? Such a big gash, and he didn’t even flinch when they applied the medicine. He’s been standing here with us for so long without any expression. I feel like he’s not someone to mess with."

"The old man hasn’t said anything, so it’s not our place to comment. Let’s keep quiet."

Han Qian turned his head again and said to Chen Mo, "Do you want to sit down and rest for a bit?"

"No need," Chen Mo replied.

Chen Mo chatted casually with Han Qian.

But his mind was entirely on the room inside.

Ever since he saw Xi Siyan’s back wound, he had been somewhat distracted. After all, he remembered that at the last moment, it was Xi Siyan who had tackled him, purely out of instinct. In the face of life and death, it was a natural reaction.

Time passed until the sound of the door opening broke the silence.

The two doctors wearing gloves came out and reported to the old man, "We’ve cleaned and bandaged the wounds. President Xi is young and has a good constitution, so there’s no major issue. With some rest, he’ll be fine."

"Can we go in now?" Jiang Jing, Xi Siyan’s mother, asked anxiously.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, "The anesthesia just wore off, and the explosion caused severe headaches. For now, it’s best to keep things quiet. Too many people might risk infection."

Chen Mo frowned, "Is there any way to relieve the headache?"

The doctor responded, "We’ve given him painkillers, but for some reason, they’re barely effective."

Chen Mo stepped forward, "I’ll go in and check on him."

The doctor looked at him and stopped him, "Tomorrow, Mr. Chen. President Xi said he doesn’t want to see anyone right now."

Han Qian was surprised, "Not even Chen Mo? That’s unusual."

"Yes, including Mr. Chen."

Some people immediately glanced at Chen Mo.

Jiang Jing looked around, then turned to Chen Mo and smiled gently, "Since there’s no major issue, there’s no rush. You two have been through a lot. I’ll have the kitchen prepare something to eat. You should both get some rest tonight."

Old Master Xi, leaning on his cane, also said, "Then we won’t go in. Prepare the room next to his. He’ll stay here for a while to recover. There’s no rush with work matters."

Regardless of others’ expressions or thoughts,

Chen Mo paused for a moment, then nodded, "Alright."

That night, after everyone left,

Silence enveloped the small building where Xi Siyan was staying.

At midnight, Chen Mo quietly pushed open Xi Siyan’s door.

The room was dark.

Fortunately, the moonlight outside was enough for Chen Mo to see clearly.

The room was large, and the sleeping area was around a corner. Chen Mo walked a few steps and saw the figure lying face-down on the dark bed, bare-chested and wrapped in bandages. His shoulder muscles were slightly tensed, and his face was hidden.

Chen Mo approached and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch his upper arm.

The person, who had been closed-eyed, suddenly opened them. Even with the faint light from outside, Chen Mo could see the alarming redness in his eyes.

"Is your headache getting worse?" Chen Mo felt a pang of concern and tried to help him sit up, "I’ll call the doctor."

"No need," Xi Siyan mumbled, pulling Chen Mo closer and pressing down on him.

The familiar scent instantly brought Xi Siyan a semblance of clarity amidst the chaos.

He thought, this was the real, living Chen Mo.

If the explosion had filled his mind with foreign conversations, the process of cleaning and treating his wounds made him relive parts of his own life.

A prodigy and a boy from a wealthy family, struggling to grow up in the mud—they were naturally worlds apart.

When did he start noticing Chen Mo during their seemingly unconnected student days?

Perhaps it was when Chen Mo ran like the wind during PE class, or when he treated his bruises alone after fighting off those who troubled him. It could have been how he was always the last to leave and the first to arrive at school, silently present.

As class president, he privately warned those who bothered Chen Mo, watched his every move, and often initiated conversations. Everything seemed reasonable, too reasonable for him to admit his feelings until after the college entrance exam.

That was a crossroads, leading the already vastly different pair in separate directions.

Years later, youthful infatuations became tangible realities.

One was entangled in family affairs, the other teetering on the brink of an abyss, yet both equally brilliant.

Another son of the Yang family openly demanded favoritism in projects, making the drunk at the dinner table seem far removed from his former self. The night he sent him home, he thought it was the beginning of something new.

Little did he know it foreshadowed a predetermined end.

In that end, there was a sea of glaring red.

Someone’s life abruptly ended.

Leaving behind ashes, stretching the sunset that day at the base of the building into a long, endless expanse, marking a solitary figure standing amidst the Xi family’s long-standing prominence.

Though not experienced firsthand, the lingering regret of a long life felt like an endless torment, piercing deeply into Xi Siyan’s body now.

He desperately needed proof.

Proof that Chen Mo was alive, and that this life was not a dream he refused to wake from, born out of his final regret.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to see me? Are you feeling better now?" Chen Mo's low murmur in the darkness was real.

The warmth of skin contact was also real. Xi Siyan held him tightly, his voice hoarse, "Yeah, much better, just a nightmare."

Chen Mo touched the bandages on Xi Siyan's upper body but did not ask further. In the darkness, they embraced each other. Xi Siyan's back was injured, so after bringing Chen Mo to bed, he could only hold him down while carefully avoiding his injured foot.

Chen Mo naturally adjusted to his sleeping position.

They lay quietly close together, relaxed, nestled against each other's chest. Chen Mo gently stroked Xi Siyan's hair until his muscles fully relaxed and his breathing became steady.

A night passed quietly.

Dawn broke.

Early in the morning, at the old mansion of the Xi family.

Several children from the younger generation of the Xi family were playing cards in Xi Siyan's courtyard.

They were all in their early teens, given permission by the patriarch to bring some liveliness to the courtyard that had been empty for years.

Suddenly, as they got carried away, they heard a loud bang.

The door to the second floor was violently pulled open.

The current boss of CM, who managed countless people outside, emerged with a casually draped coat revealing white bandages underneath. His face was stormy.

The few people below trembled, confused.

Looking up, they asked, "Brother, what's wrong?"

Xi Siyan's gaze swept over them, his brows furrowed, "Where is he?"

"Who?" someone asked instinctively.

As soon as the question was asked, they noticed Xi Siyan's expression darken even more.

Just then, someone walked into the courtyard.

Chen Mo, holding a notebook, approached calmly. Seeing the person upstairs, he was surprised, "Why are you up?"

The others downstairs immediately realized, "Brother, you were looking for Brother Mo?"

"You should have said so earlier; he woke up early."

"You two weren't staying in the same room last night. Brother Mo wasn't in your room."

Their chatter did not elicit any response.

Because Xi Siyan, seeing the person standing there, felt relieved but suddenly felt certain about something without needing confirmation.

Chen Mo leaving the Yang family did not mean he no longer cared about family ties.

His sudden change in attitude was not due to being carefree or understanding.

From another perspective, everything began with subtle clues from that internet cafe when he was seventeen.

If Chen Mo was not Chen Mo,

Yet remained Chen Mo,

then everything made sense.

The person at the courtyard entrance smiled in the morning light. The atmosphere seemed to have warmed up, with the teenagers becoming familiar with Chen Mo, more relaxed than when they were alone with Xi Siyan.

Jokingly, one said, "Brother Mo, does Brother Yan have a bad temper in the morning?"

"I knew why Brother Han Qian looked increasingly haggard since going abroad. That door slam almost made me throw my good hand of cards."

...

All the joking voices became background noise.

Xi Siyan ignored everything else. This was where he grew up, every tree and blade of grass familiar to him, yet this moment felt more painful than any dream where he saw Chen Mo lying in a pool of blood.

Because this was not an illusion. The living, unvanishing Chen Mo had likely traversed an immense distance, completely shattering and rebuilding himself, to stand there.

The mere thought of this possibility almost pierced Xi Siyan through.